Love The Way You Lie
by Ngoc Chau
Summary: She sighed his name into the base of his neck. There was a choking gasp from him and his time sped up. She screamed. The bed creaked against the wall. "Mayuri-sama…" she stuttered as he rammed into her. Mayuri x Nemu, Lemon galores, pic for ff included!
1. Skin

**Ngoc Chau does not own Bleach**

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><p>He was so cold, always cold that she felt almost sorry for him. Nemu held him closer to her, let her own body warm up that freezing skin of his, cover every inch of him. Mayuri exhaled out a hoarse cry as she bit down on his shoulder, her teeth skimming across one of the scars running there. She shuddered as he pushed himself in, feeling utterly tingly.<br>Their arms twisted and entwined together, elbows being mistaken for whoever's it was. Oh, she thought and it repeated itself in her head like a broken record. He was doing something completely new, she realized as she turned her head to the side, panting for that breath that always eluded her when he was with her. Her hair tickled her ears as she carelessly tossed her head about, taken over by nerves and jolts.

There were times that Nemu thought that sex could be so… mundane in a sense, she would always be proven wrong by her captain. She screamed again as he pulled out, wanting him to stay inside, never leave her. Her legs wrapped around his waist tighter. His rhythm and trusts remained sure, the charging making beautiful contact with her flower bud, below and hidden away. He moved higher on her body as he pulled out again, her breasts aching against his chest. Then retreated lower down the length of her when he entered in deep. Her nails were clawing at his back, loving how it felt to have him cage her with his body.

She sighed his name into the base of his neck, smacking her lips there. There was a choking gasp from him and his time sped up. She screamed. The bed creaked against the wall. "Mayuri-sama…" she stuttered as he rammed into her.

He had never touched her this way before, never reached so deep inside her that he may as well be filling her with him. The base of him touched her. His hands reached her everywhere. Despite how quiet a lover he was, she could hear the rapid beating of his heart. She cried into his chest as he pounded into her, the nerves below being bombarded by a rhapsody of sensations.  
>She licked at him, sucking a patch of the skin there and marking it with a love kiss. She heard him call her name. Nemu returned the sentiment with greater eagerness and volume.<p>

"Louder!" he ordered her and she threw all caution to the wind, shrieking his name into his heart.

Close to his ear, she repeated, "Oh…. Oh… Oh my God…."

There was a chuckle from him followed by grunting as he moved just a little bit differently, yet still managed to continue touching that magic spot down there.

"Ah… ah… ah…" she gasped out, his name was the last thing she uttered before she was completely still. Shaken. Immobile. Shocked by the received pleasure that she knew had been taken to new heights that occasion. She supposed he must've been especially tired. Her back arched higher, her spine having left the surface of the bed. The head reared back, her mouth open as she struggled to breathe like a fish out of water. More mewling, more gasps came from her mouth that she could not believe that he was inciting those sounds in her, that she was capable of voicing them.

Reader, she was met with a pleasure that I am virtually incapable of describing in these minute words. The jolts continued to travel throughout her body though the main pleasure had already left her. Slowly, she descended back down to the bed as Mayuri continued his erratic thrusting into her.

His hands were tangled in the locks of her hair, his fingers clawing into the mattress. His hips moved slower yet fiercer, harder. Every time he moved into her sent a little sharp pain below and small grunts came from her throat. Her chest ached from the friction of his chest, the constant movement they were subjected to, to coincide with his own movements.

He trembled, she held him all the more closer. Then, as though everything had just been released, he fell unto her and she relished the weight of him on her body. She buried her face in his chest, enveloping her senses in him until she was intoxicated by his essence. His arms wrapped around her and squeezed her, she embraced him back and sighed, well satiated with the evening.

Then too quickly, he rolled away from her and she suddenly felt bare without him atop her. She knew it without him even telling her. This was done only when he was tired, he would definitely need his sleep alone in peace. With a flushed face and rubbery legs, she stumbled out of his bed. He remained resting: lying on his back, the sheets hiding away what was below as his leg was propped up, and his arm was draped over his face. His breathing was steady and she wondered how he could always keep his composure after their couplings.

Gathering his clothes to fold and hang on the chair against the wall then putting on her hiyoku, she stayed momentarily by the side of his bed.

"Will you be needing anything, Mayuri-sama?" she asked, her voice quiet if not a little strained.

He did not look at her nor remove his arm away from his face. He breathed deeply before uttering, "Go and check on Ashisoji Jizo then go back to your own room to sleep."

She nodded her head and exited. Heading to the room where the zanpakuto spirit currently occupied.

Reader, the room was not decorated in a way that would be appealing to a child like the room of the eleventh division lieutenant, but it was neat and tidy and adequate for sleeping in.  
>The reason why the zanpakuto spirit should have its own room? I do not know the answer, Reader, I am merely the writer of the tale, nothing more. However, there are a few theories. The first was that it was by Nemu's request that the zanpakuto spirit should occupy a different room from Mayuri-sama, unless he was willing to either copulate with her in front of the child-like spirit or go to her room when their urges acted up. He would not go to her room and even he had <em>some<em>(albeit very little) morals about what he did in front of a child, especially since(though Nemu knows he would never admit it out loud, she could still _hear _him when standing by closely) he regarded the little Ashisoji Jizo something akin to his son as Nemu was liken to his daughter.  
>The second reason perhaps could be that since the manifestations of all the zanpakuto spirits, Ashisoji Jizo had become a favourite to Yachiru since there were seldom any children shimigamis since the days of yore and she so loved to pull on his wings. She was always begging Mayuri to allow her some time to play with the zanpakuto spirit and when he denied her that(which was virtually all the time) she would actually infiltrate his division to play with Ashisoji Jizo or kidnap him to take back to the Eleventh division. It would not do to have her walk in on them and he despised anyone sticking their noses into his personal life or what was his business.<p>

Nemu adjusted the obi of her hiyoku as she approached the room where she distinctly heard the familiar sound of bleeping. Bleeping at this hour? It was unheard of for him and she wondered what could be the matter. Was he having a nightmare? She entered the room; the lights were on and Ashisoji Jizo was sitting in the middle of it with bunches of bananas surrounding him, though Nemu knew that he wasn't only up for a midnight snack.

Nemu closed the door behind her as she entered the room, carefully looking all around and taking note of the sudden change in the air as she went about cleaning up the banana peels. She approached the open window and closed it shut. Then made her way to the closet. She opened it and greeted the pink-haired lieutenant who was hiding inside.

As she came out of the closet, Yachiru confessed a great relief that it was her and not Mayurin who had found her, for he was always such a buzz kill. Nemu questioned why she should be here in such a late hour. She replied that she wanted to play with Ashisoji Jizo but could not as she and her captain had gone on patrol and only returned late that night after being lost for a week.

Nemu then understood why the past week had been so quiet.

Continuing, Yachiru confessed that she could not bear to go another moment without playing with the zanpakuto spirit some more and so had snuck into the barracks to see him. He had let her into his room and they had been drawing pictures and eating bananas until they were interrupted. Nemu sighed and looked at the clock. It was very late, or possibly very early if you looked at it another way.

She asked Yachiru to leave, Mayuri had just fallen asleep and it would not do to disturb him.

Yachiru complained that she wanted five more minutes with Ashisoji Jizo and shot her a puppy-dog expression.

Though Nemu was quite immune to it as was Mayuri, she thought it not unreasonable to give Yachiru perhaps a few more minutes with her little friend. She agreed and made Yachiru swear that she would leave in the next five minutes; this was confirmed by Yachiru with a pinky swear.

For the next few minutes(this did go on longer than the five minutes, Reader), Ashisoji Jizo had continued colouring with Yachiru, which had him produce about six pictures about nature: two of which he gifted to Nemu and Yachiru. After that the two became quite bored and snacked on more bananas as Nemu carefully watched the two of them much like a parent would.

Suddenly, the evening took a different turn at about four am. "What was all the noise about, Nemu-chan?" Yachiru asked as she was playing with the submissive zanpakuto spirit's face.

Nemu halted in her steps, wondering just what exactly Yachiru wanted to know. "May you specify the questions, Kusajishi-fukutaicho?" Nemu requested.

She tilted her head and gave a happy smile. She explained herself. "Me and Ashisoji Jizo were being real quiet a few minutes ago 'cuz we heard this really weird sound. It sounded like… someone crying, but then it didn't really sound like someone crying. And we heard moaning. And groaning. I asked Ashisoji Jizo what could it be, but he didn't know. So we went to the wall and placed out ears real close-like, like this." She demonstrated so. "Then it suddenly stopped."

Reader, despite the indifference on Nemu's face, she was horrible embarrassed to think that these two had heard her and Mayuri together in bed; her cheeks were flushed red and she gave a small barely noticeable(it went unnoticed by the two child-like beings in the room) gasp. She could not think up an excuse.  
>"Kusaijishi-fukutaicho, Mayuri-sama and I were the causes of the noise you and Ashisoji Jizo heard earlier." Nemu confessed, her voice unwavering.<p>

"Really?" and the 'really' was stretched most immaturely. "I thought some wimp got hurt real bad and was just hiding."

Nemu had thought that the questioning would be left at that.

"So, what were you guys doing? Making babies or something?" Yachiru asked unabashed.  
>Reader, there was an awkward pause. Before Nemu could answer, Yachiru stood up and announced, "Well, I'm tired now. I'm going home." Again, before Nemu could offer to open the doors for her, Yachiru opened the window and leapt out and towards the Eleventh division.<p>

Nemu tidied up the mess of papers the two children had created.

Ashisoji crawled to his bed and snuggled into his sheets that resembled something of a makeshift cocoon.

Nemu paid him her attentions and tucked him in, stroking the blue hair atop his head. Oddly that night, Nemu kissed the top of Ashisoji Jizo's head and bid him goodnight. Reader, the zanpakuto spirit blushed at the action.

Even after leaving the room and going down the hall to her own bed, only one thought clouded her mind until her vision became hazy and she lost herself to sleep. Babies. Little babies with blue hair and golden eyes, possibly green eyes. Babies that would be gifted with their father's spiritual power and intelligence. Babies. Adorable little babies from her to him. The thought repeated itself excessively and so did the imaginings of her belly swelling to gross size, the patter of running feet through the barracks halls, and the crying at night that she would have to take care of.

And strangely enough, Reader, she found herself fancying the hopeful idea of babies.

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><p><strong>How was it?<strong>


	2. Capability

**Ngoc Chau does not own Bleach**

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><p>The thought of babies and children clouded Nemu's mind again once more.<p>

Just recently, the Shinigami Women's Association had thrown a party for one of the lower-ranking shanghais who had found herself in an interesting condition. Needless to say, Nemu found herself envying the woman for her state. At the party, all of them had swarm the swollen belly and taken their turns on rubbing the surface. Nemu had never though of babies in a way that was not scientific and meant for the advancement of tests or experiments. But to have touched it, felt the very form of the baby within the skin… Something bloomed inside of her that made her long for that one day she could cradle a new life within herself.

Everything these days appeared to have Nemu think of children and motherhood: how lover-like Mayuri was capable of being sometimes, the acute notice that more and more women in the Seireitei and Rukongai were having off-spring, her new duties that had her interact more often than not with child-like souls what with the materialization of Ashisoji Jizo and Yachiru's frequently growing visits to the SDRI…  
>More so, she grew giddy with the idea that a part of Mayuri would be inside her, carried with her own blood and genes as well. If she ever had a babe, she promised to herself that she would love it unconditionally, even if its father did not care so for it.<p>

What better dream was it for a creation to have than to someday be a creator in its own right?

Nemu responded immediately to the sudden mention of her name. "Yes, Ise-fukutaicho."

"Is something the matter?" Nanao asked worriedly.

Nemu responded that nothing was the matter, though Nanao was not so quick to drop the subject.

"Are you sure? Ever since we got back from Kaguraizo-san's new house, you've been awfully quiet - more than usual."

Nemu gave a breathy little sigh and questioned Nanao if she herself ever considered having a child of her own someday.

At this inquisition, the eighth division lieutenant blushed profusely and this action attracted the attentions of the other ladies of the Shinigami Women's Association. Nanao stuttered in her explanation, "No! I'm too busy for that sort of stuff. There would be too much to give up if I ever became a mother. I would have to take a maternity leave and find someone to fill in for me. And I wouldn't even be able to know where to start to find someone who's efficient in their work and keeping others in line. No one would want my job so it would be really inconvenient for me to just become pregnant and leave my work to all of the division. Plus, I don't have the time to go look for a man! A baby is hard work, and I already have too much on my plate right now. The way that Kyoraku-taicho keeps pushing his paperwork onto me, I'll never have a chance to go out on dates or socialize. I swear, the man is turning me bitter before my time!"

Rangiku threw in her own thoughts, "Why don't you just ask Shunsui to knock you up?"

Through the laughter shared by the other women in the Association, Nanao roared that she would never. "Are you kidding me? Why would I go to that pervert and ask him to… to… do _that_ with me!"

Rangiku took a swig and shrugged her shoulders, gleefully pointing out, "Look! You're a lieutenant and he's a captain. Both of you could make a strong kid. Plus, you said it yourself: you don't have the time to look for other men and he's right there in front of yo. Anyway, he likes you a lot; everyone in the Seireitei and even Rukongai knows about his little crush on you. Don't you ever notice by the way he flirts with you?"

Nemu noticed with interest at how much redder Nanao's face could be.

"He flirts that way with every woman!" she complained.

"But he's still so much more familiar with you!" one of the other members pointed out.

Flustered, Nanao claimed out loud, "He sleeps and drinks all the time! Who knows if he can even rise for the occasion, let alone help me take care of it when I have it!"

"So _you've_ actually given it _some_ thought?"

There was no mistaking the voice of who had asked the question. All women directed their gaze to the man who stood so stoically behind their bi-spectacled vice-president.  
>Kyoraku Shunsui had his arms cross across his chest, the hands tucked away into his sleeves. Though his eyes were wide with what could easily be described as surprised, a dopey smile was resting lazing on his face. "Has my Nanao-chan actually been thinking this through?" he asked with a such a carefree expression that the women were finding themselves agreeing with Nanao that this man was hardly serious about children as Zaraki Kenpachi was serious about apologizing to Kurotsuchi Mayuri about the egging of his house the other day.<p>

Nanao jumped from her chair. "Taicho! What are you doing here? You should be working now!" she accused with a pointed finger in his direction.

He scratched at his forehead, carefully adjusting his hand as he answered oh so nonchalantly. "Well, I was working for a while until I looked at the clock and realized that you were running a little bit late so I decided to go and look for you, in case something might've happened to you. Thankfully, I can see that you are safe and with all of your friends having tea, but better it was that I ventured out of my office to hear your confession of love for me."

"What CONFESSION?" she screamed at him as she hit him across the head with her fan.

He remained standing on his two feet, politely informing her that if she had wanted a baby all she had to do was tell him so and that she shouldn't be so dubious at his capability at being a parent.

At this, Nanao flew into a rage, recounting the numerous reasons why she would never procreate with him, though Nemu could easily see through it as well as everybody.

He chuckled as he deftly deflected her next attacks, and again told her that if she would like to see if he was capable of _rising to the occasion_, he would be more than happy to give her a demonstration when she returned to their offices.

The outing was quickly cut short and all returned to their homes. Though the thoughts of babies and her captain seemed a little more hopeful to her than it did before.

Reader, it should be believable that there were some times that Mayuri felt that it would be better to remove himself from his work for but a few minutes or moments, rather than continuously go on in a strain. And so it was in these little given breaks that he would finally leave his chair to have a drink of tea(coffee if he especially needed to stay awake) or possibly take a walk around the grounds of where the twelfth division's barracks and buildings stood. Of course, always by his side was his lieutenant and daughter.

They strolled together outside, but Nemu knew that this walk was less than leisurely.

Mayuri walked a few paces ahead of her, she remained a mere two steps behind him to follow. Their grounds were often more quiet than the other divisions; it should be for if the captain ever caught any shinigami lazing off, said shinigami could find himself being made into a research subject or living bomb.

She called out his name, "Mayuri-sama."

He did not look back at her, but answered by acknowledging her with her name as a response, "Nemu."

She sped up a little bit faster to him, yet still stayed behind, not daring to walk side by side with him. "You have taken very good care of me these past decades." she began, complimenting him. "I can think of nothing luckier for me than to have been your daughter."  
>She had had a little speech prepared, to lead up to what she wanted to ask him. Yet as she began to speak again, he cut her off.<p>

"Nemu. Cut straight to the point. I'm in no mood for idle chatter." he warned her.

She nodded and jumped straight to the chase. She inquired what she had been thinking about the past few days. Would it be possible to hope for children? He did not halt his walking, but she felt him take on something new akin to shock and surprise. Speeding up ever so slightly yet still maintaining a few steps behind him, she continued speaking of children that she herself would bear for him, from him. So, might she be able to hold onto the hope of birthing children one day?

He, on the other hand, remained silent.

Nemu suddenly felt a sort of outrage rise from him. And she immediately grew nervous though her expression was not fazed in the least. She mentally prepared herself for the blow that should surely be coming but it did not. She paid closer attention to his face and regarded that it was going through a multitude of emotions as though he was not exactly sure what he should be feeling right then and there.

He finally stopped in his steps and turned around to look at her. She came closer to him and bowed her head down in submission, keeping her teeth tight in case he might change his mind and strike her after all.  
>Mayuri's voice was gruff and it was not kind at all. In fact, it sounded like a tone of condescension. "What sort of questions is that? 'Can you bear children?' What a dullard you are! Of course you can't! What child could ever survive within that body of yours, filled to the brim with all its poisons?"<p>

Still in the midst of processing what she had been told, she nodded her head obediently.

He turned back around and continued on his walk.

Behind him, Nemu felt that he may as well have slapped her clean across the cheeks.

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><p><strong>Those who are observant will notice that this probably sounds familiar. It should because it's a drabble from Kurotsuchi Mayuri that has been stretched out. <strong>

**Anything to ask or say or comment?**


	3. Break

**Ngoc Chau does not own Bleach****.**

**OMG! MimiStriped was so nice! I asked her to do an illustration of a fic and she did! Here is the link to it! I hope you love it as much as I do, she is so nice! Amazing! My heart stopped when I saw it! So amazing!**

**http: / browse .deviantart .com / ?order = 5&q = kurotsuchi# / d3jow2q**

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><p>In the past few days, Kurotsuchi Mayuri had noticed something odd was going on with Nemu.<p>

For one thing, she was becoming a quiet little mouse. One day he had not noticed her and thought she had left him until when he was storming towards the door, did he see the blur of black and white in the corner and realize that she had been with him the whole time.  
>In the past few days, she had become a new woman in the SDRI. She carried out her work diligently in such a change that he had noticed it acutely as did all the other scientists who usually overlooked her if she was without him. An improvement(that was what he called it) that he greatly appreciated was her lack of speaking. That the most she would utter to him at a time as they both worked was, "Yes, sir."<br>She was often found in her own office as she wrote out her own paperwork and reports, and even began writing his for him. She did not spend much time with her club anymore and, through his spies and cameras all throughout the Seireitei, declined many invitations from other shinigamis and their social excursions. Even the little pink-haired brat had ceased coming by lately. She did not disturb him at his work and always made sure that he was well stocked in what he needed.  
>Every spare minute of her time was well spent on work and he could not even remember the last time they had coupled together(the pleasure of work outweighed the pleasure of orgasm). He had had no need for such a thing in the beginning, it was only because of her that he had returned to the habit of mutual intercourse instead of self-satisfaction.<p>

And all this would've greatly pleased him if not for one thing.

That was her aversion of him.  
>He called it aversion for what else could it be? Numbing herself completely in his presence that he could barely sense her emotions as sharply as he did earlier: that for once he was in the dark to what she could possibly be thinking or feeling. And he would not lower himself to attempt to 'reconnect' with her, simply to know what she was thinking about when her green eyes would travel up from the view of the floor to a faraway wall.<p>

The aversion went so far as she would not look at him. All that time working, supervising the experiments of the SDRI's scientific heads, and running errands for him. Even when their shared empathy was hindered, he just knew that it was her little trick to avoid him. To not stay in the same room as him. It was not hard to say, Reader, that this avoidance was more than enough to annoy him, to convince him that he should put the little ingénue in her place.  
>It worked… for a while.<br>In the midst of his punishment to her for her insolence to him, she had looked at him for a brief second until the light disappeared from her eyes and lost all senses to the world. He could not control his anger well, especially when it came to physical abuse - kicking and swinging away until the subject could feel nothing no longer in sweet unconsciousness or until he became bored, the latter usually came first. She had made herself stronger. Why? That she should endure his punishments silently until it was 'done', he might've assumed. But he just knew it was for another reason altogether and refused to believe it was because of him.

After the beatings he would leave her, only tending to her if she called after him for help. But she did not call after him and the next day when he came back to where he had left her, she remained face down in a pool of her own bile and blood. As much contrite he was and felt that he should fix her, his pride would not let him wallow before her and hope that his care would convince her of anything regarding him. He ordered Akon to take her to the Fourth division as he was busy and then to tell one of the other shinigami to clean up the mess.

Their professional relationship did not fare worse than their personal relationship behind closed doors. He could trust her not to poison him, even a thought of betrayal like that would result in her own self-destruction. But they were more distanced in the privacy of their home. She would make his dinner and tidy around the place; but she would not say a word to him, not even look at him. When they spoke to each other, seldom that it was, her gaze would be directed anywhere else but him. Dinner would be spent in silence, the occasional, "Is there anything you need, sir?" He would not start a conversation, never; he was hungry and he would not grovel to a creation of his.

Albeit in certain times when he was feeling generous and paid her his attentions, she would still not face him. His amorous plays on her were acknowledged as if it was a mere itch.

One late night as she was in her room, her hair undone, he entered: tired and exhausted, and in the mood, shall we say, for her warm company in his bed.

She sat in front of her vanity, still and motionless, as he swept her long hair over one shoulder and proceeded to kiss and nibble at her neck. The gentle ministrations growing more passionate, his teeth scraped against her skin and he bit hard. He sat on the bench alongside her, his legs pointing opposite from hers. One hand of his slipped into the folds of the white hiyoku, eagerly fondling her bountiful breasts while the other was happy to handle her rear.  
>Oh, she was so warm. Her skin was just what he had been craving for the past few days until he thought he would very much go insane if he could not take her. How he had thought about this the past few days when he felt next to freezing. So soft. Mayuri licked at the spot beneath her ear, his nose brushing by her lobe.<p>

He felt himself growing excited when that whimper of hers escaped her lips, the walls she had ardently put up were crumbling. She was overwhelmed by him, this sudden affection after so long. Well, he thought, he would definitely show her tonight what the two of them had been denied for so long. But there was this little nagging about her that he overlooked completely, glad to see that she could not ignore him for long.

He stood up and led her to his rooms, past Ashisoji Jizo's door.

Eagerly, he pulled her into his chambers and shut the door behind, narrowly missing her loose hair. Tossing her with not much care onto the surface of his bed, he mounted atop her and began pulling apart the hiyoku to have his access to her breasts. His breath was caught in his throat when he felt her thigh rise up slightly against his groin. He held her wrists in each of his hand, positioning her arms eagle spread to not let it get in the way of his fun. Taking a rosy-nipple into his mouth, he suckled at it; flicking it with his tongue and tugging with his teeth.

Nemu whimpered once more beneath him.

He was glad to know that her mood should pass and everything would go back to normal(though he still admired her ameliorated work efficiency). His tongue crept out of his mouth and lapped at the spot center her chest. He moved upwards, tasting her skin and giving a hard bite here and there. She gave a small groan when he reached her neck, sucking there and making sure that she would wake up the next morning with love bites as her new choker, marking her as utterly his even more. A high breath came from her lips, her head was tossed back. Her perseverance was good and all, almost admirable, but he knew just how weak she could be when faced with carnal pleasure, just like any other being. He kissed her on the lips, a hand releasing its hold on her wrist to stroke her long thigh. Her free hand went to his shoulder, placed there. His hip buckled into hers and was already beginning to grind against her heat.

And he felt that something was not entirely… routine with her in their copulation.

He rose up from her body and took a look at her. She was breathing heavily from their activity; but her head was on its side, facing towards the door, and her eyes closed shut. He growled when witnessing how defiant she could be now. Still keeping careful watch on her, the hand upon her thigh moved inwards to her flower. His fingers were eager in rolling the little bud in its tips, tugging at it, all to excite her. He saw her bite down on her lips, the brows furrow as the eyes desperately tried to remain closed. He felt her hand on his shoulder ball itself into a fist, not daring to claw into him.

He seethed, "Nemu. Open your eyes and look at me, you fool."

It looked as though she was struggling to disobey him but it was futile. She turned her face to look at him and she opened her eyes, though half-lidded they were. Her green orbs were hazy and watery, Then there was an almost indescribable pain. It shot through his chest and he bowed over from the sheer shock of it. Like rain falling over the two of them, he _felt _her. Felt what she had been feeling. His anger arose inexplicably as once again the feelings were halted and evaporated away from him. Closed off once more from her. Nemu's lips pursed together. She blinked once and he saw the water drip down the sides of her face. He told himself that he cared not if she was crying.  
>Steadying himself upright, Mayuri pulled at the obi and tossed it onto the floor. He grunted as he angrily opened her hiyoku wide and then her legs. He did not undo his own belt, but bunched up the fabric high enough so that he could have easy access to her. Her hands rested at her side, her gaze somewhere else again. Mayuri dove to her, biting her hill of her breast while his arms hooked underneath her legs. The backs of her knees rested on the crooks of his elbows. As though from instinct, Nemu placed her hands upon his shoulders, but they were more akin to dead hands than hers when she was with him. She kept her legs high up for him.<p>

He nailed himself inside her and winced. Oh, she was so dry! He felt himself barely able to move inside her, each effort was more taxing than the last. He moved against her, her soft chest moulding against his body. Her heels clumsily bumping into his shoulder blades as he charged her. Every thrust of his incited small gasps from her, though she did stay quiet. The bed creaked as he grinded into her.  
>He played with her hips, her breasts; kissing the spots he knew that would surely make her wet. Barely any change and he felt a sense of strange loathing. He bit harder on her breasts as he moved inside her. Not really caring for time or even his own pleasure, but forcing himself to hurry up with his climax.<p>

Mayuri felt himself getting closer. He looked at Nemu's face; though she barely made a sound he could tell that the experience was not comfortable for her either. And not once, he noticed, had she said his name all night. He hissed at her to scream for him. She complied with though he knew that it was utterly fake, the scream was not one of pleasure or even of pain as he rammed himself inside her harder and harder, erratic and capriciously. He pinched at her as he harshly buried himself to the hilt inside her sheathe and finally she screamed from the soreness. He came not too soon after and stayed inside her only briefly, relishing the slickness inside of her for a few moments before pulling out.

The entire ordeal was far from gratifying, the only consolation was that he had taken care of his lust.

But he felt that the whole evening would've been more enjoyable if he had done it alone himself. He removed himself from her body and sat far on the edge of the bed. Breathing heavily through his mouth, he looked over his shoulder to the woman who shared virtually everything with him. Her legs were still spread wide, left the way he had placed them. Her arms rested limply at her sides, a hand shrouding a tit from his view. Her chest rising high and low with every breath that escaped her mouth. Still, she looked away from him and he could tell that she kept her eyes closed. The hiyoku that remained wrapped around her arms and shoulders only accentuated her nudity.

"Nemu." he said out loud.

Swiftly, she rolled off of his bed and rearranged herself. Her eyes did not meet his golden gaze, she focused on the belt she was tying around her waist. When she was finished and she looked neat once more, her hands joined together and she dipped her head down in a matter that was most servant-like, but he knew what the intention behind it. "Will you be needing anything else, sir?"

He did not respond to her and sure enough when he looked back over his shoulder again, she was already gone. He did not chase after her, why should he?

But sitting on the edge of his bed: exhausted, tired, unsatisfied… he thought back to when she finally looked at him, _really_ looked at him and recalled that moment of shared pain between the two of them, unwanted yet exquisite.

Then Mayuri was not so sure, for once, from whom the pain had come from: her or him.

* * *

><p><strong>I really wanted to write something that would get you here(right in the heart) when you read about Nemu trying her hardest to lock him out of her. I'm not so good with poignant stuff, damn it. <strong>

**Any suggestions or comments?**


	4. Pulse

**Ngoc Chau does not own Bleach**

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><p>He sighed as the pen scratched the surface of the paper.<p>

Mayuri looked up to the clock that hung over the far wall, opposite the door. It was almost five, the room was losing its light as the sun was setting. He sat in the office room, waiting for Nemu to arrive. A few days earlier, he had arranged for a routine check up for her, he wanted to see how her body was faring, if anything would have to be improved or maintained, should anything be restocked inside her, etc…. Kurotsuchi Mayuri may not have been an eloquent man as others when it came to showing affection or 'love', but he knew to take care of his daughter.

He crossed his arms as he looked to the clock again, he wondered why he had come early. Because the work is already done, there is nothing else to do, and it's too late now to start on anything new; a voice answered him in the back of his head. He looked at the clock: five more minutes and it would be five o'clock. He had scheduled the check up for five-sharp. He promised himself that if she was late, he would definitely make sure that she would regret it. He blew out heavily through his mouth, half-expecting tendrils of smoke to emit. Perhaps he should take up smoking, Akon had always told him that he adopted the habit to calm himself down. What for, he had asked back then. The response was voiced not by him himself but by the gaze he suddenly threw all around the labs. Still such a little novice, Mayuri had concluded then.

It annoyed him that Nemu had recently been going back to her club. The only bright side was that the pink haired lieutenant of the eleventh division still had not infiltrated his division for the past months. There was only three more minutes till the clock would strike five. If she was not here in two minutes, he would take her apart again.  
>The next minute or so he had thought the former, she entered into the room: her head bowed low. She greeted him, her eyes still glued to the floor, and bowed earnestly forward. He responded in kind with a nod. There was almost no need to exchange words between them. She knew what protocol was and he knew that she knew.<p>

Nemu left her choker on, but was swift in untying the white obi of her uniform and slipping off the modified black shihakusho from her shoulders to the floor. Modesty did not exist anymore between them; they, who had been through so much together, who knew each other… As she stepped out of the rumpled piece of black, Mayuri kept close watch on the length of her legs, how it traveled as it rose and descended. Damn him. Damn her most of all. How dare she compel him to want after her still!  
>It was odd that he should look upon nude bodies almost every day in his work, yet to see his daughter stripping incited great desire. Her body was not so different from any other bodies of women.<p>

She picked up a standard robe that was left on a hook by the wall and put it on her. Still, she did not look at him. He paid attention to the long braid of hers that dangled to and fro as her arms adjusted to tie the belt of the robe. Her legs were made longer by the sheer length of white that covered them.

Strangely enough, his eyes joined at a common pot where the shadows accentuated the curves of her thighs and where the braid ended. He could very well do whatever the hell he wanted to her and she would let him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up to imagine what he could do to her: to trap her in his hold, make her scream, feel that warm skin under his cold hands and nails….  
>If she still didn't want to look at him, no matter, he'll simply take her from behind; throw her face into the floor and have his sadistic ways with her. He noticed a shiver go through her and smiled maniacally. So she heard, did she? He went on thinking more and more sordid things that he would do to her: all to make her scream for him. And they all involved a great deal of blood, knives, and ropes. All the while, he noticed with great delight that she was silently shaking. She knew he would not hesitate to go through with it, what did he have to lose.<br>The spell was ended when he heard her whimper. And what was this he was thinking to do, he suddenly realized. Rape her? Dear me, he thought, it would be nothing short of a dry experience.

Perhaps on other days, he would've made some amorous play on Nemu to hint to her of his need and as a good daughter, she would willingly oblige him. But the memory of their last encounter together disinterested him and he would not go through such a thing again. Not only was it humiliating in a certain aspect, but it had rather repelled him from the idea of attempting another amatory tryst. His hand, though just as satisfying, did not prove to be wanted company as it had been in earlier days before Nemu.

He called out her name and at this she nervously circled on her heel to look back at him. He pointed to a chair not too far from him with his pen in hand. Seriousness was all he was about now.

She sat, he questioned. When it came to physical checking, he carefully measured her and weighed her. His hands touched her everywhere and groped under to feel if any of the inventory of poisons and medicines inside her were hindering and needed to be refilled. Strange that as he worked, his lust almost disappeared. Almost. He remarked how her face flushed a tinted red as he touched her all around. She was always sensitive during check-ups like these. Still, she avoided looking at him.

He told himself to stop thinking about it too much, to stop caring. As long as work was done and she was serving her purpose to assist him and complete whatever he left for her: that was fine. His golden eyes rolled downwards to look at her. Standing before her, Mayuri, with snake-like reflexes, grabbed her hand. His digits rested upon her wrist, the thumb following the heartbeat. She was quiet. He made careful note about her pulse, the way it was speeding it up now. Hm, was she scared? Was she angry?  
>Feigning apathy, he looked to the clock: ten minutes past five. Suddenly, he felt something wet drip onto his hand.<p>

He looked back to see where the source of the wetness had from. Surely it could not be from where he was guessing. But it was, it actually was.

Nemu's face was indifferent and emotionless, the lips held shut and the nose still. Her eyes, on the other hand, had become red and misty with the overflow of her tears. More drops fell upon his hand, the top of the wrist, his index knuckle…. He could recount the times he had saw tears in her eyes, but never once had he seen them like this before. She made no effort to wipe away the tears, neither did he. But he watched, a strange sound of interest coming from him, as he leaned in closer to her.  
>Her pulse quickened in his hold. Mayuri's grip tightened on her hand, his already-too-short nails digging into her wrists. He brought the palm of her hand to the side of his face, admiring the warmth and gaping at how potent the empathy between them could sometimes be.<p>

It was as though their thoughts were not being shared directly to each other, but rather that it was being released from them, All to the air around them that they breathed and was surrounded in. Liken to drowning, the two of them - he knew that she could feel it too - drowned in themselves and the other. He had never felt pain for her, had always shared it with her or given it all up to her so that he could arise the victor in battles. For once, she was sharing it with him, and not the other way around. It was indescribable, no words existed to give account to her.

His tongue clicked on the roof of his mouth, against his teeth as he pressed her palm closer to his cheek. The tears from her poured continuously. She whimpered. He took in a deep breath.

Did she really think him so cruel when he told her that she could never have children? He knew then that she indeed fancied the idea of mother, but he had hoped and thought that she would pass it off as a whim and forget about it. Obviously she did not. He had knew inwardly the cause of her silence, but he could not have expected it to be this heavy. Her dam crumbled. The waters rose higher for the two of them.

He noticed that he was shaking.

His brows furrowed together and his teeth clenched as the sick feeling rose up in him, the familiar pain from the other night made itself known again. It was her fault that he was feeling like this! She was making him feel so… lousy!

With nary a word, his hand drew back.

She was suddenly on the floor, the chair having toppled with her.

He had struck her hard across the cheek, the injury swelling to be a violent blush. Nemu looked up at him for a second through watery eyes and turned her face away, a dejected sigh coming from her lips.

In that instant, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, wanting nothing but to be away from her.

And as he strode through the halls, shinigami here and there clearing a distinct pathway for him, his hands continued their shaking.

* * *

><p><strong>What did you think? <strong>


	5. Quietism

**Ngoc Chau does not own Bleach**

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><p>Upon entering the room, Nemu felt something to be out of the ordinary.<p>

Her senses flared up to high-alert, on guard for whatever might be lurking her bedroom. She cautiously crossed the room to her vanity, inexplicably being drawn to it. Her green eyes widened once she saw what rested upon its counter. It did not belong, though anybody else might say otherwise, but she knew that it had not been there before and that someone had brought it in. It was a little box, light blue and exceptionally plain. She wondered what could be inside. With deliberate slowness, she opened it. She gasped to see what was inside the box.  
>It was a ribbon, red and sleek. It was not that much different from the one she sported as a choker around her neck, save that it was a shade or two darker. The ribbon had been folded up, moving like a snake in air as she pulled it out from one end. The other hand jumped to her mouth.<p>

There was no other answer for who could've left her this, only one person could've. Only said person could've been so profound to leave a message in such a way.

It was as though Kurotsuchi Mayuri was in the room with her; expressing himself earnestly to her the only way she knew that he possibly could: secretively and silently. She understood. She knew that he knew that she would understand. There arose a bitter feeling in her stomach that made her feel sick. He didn't need to do this, she thought as she clutched the ribbon to her chest. Why did he do this? She closed her eyes all the tighter, feeling the tears run down her cheek.  
>Why was it that even the smallest gestures like this could mean so much for her, that it could almost eradicate everything? Why was it that everything he did made her fall in love with him, even when it hurt her so much? From the strip of red ribbon, she could practically smell his scent of ice and chemicals. The smell of it made her yearn for him. Why would he give her something like this? It was her who had been insolent, she was the one who should make it up to him! And she had treated him so horribly, avoiding him when all of his life everyone else avoided him. She had to make such a big deal out of what he told her when he had done no wrong but tell her the truth about herself rather than lie to her and crush her at the hardest. She damned her stupid pride; pride, that he often chastised her for having.<p>

She headed towards the door, eager now to see him so she could properly apologize to him and do whatever it would take to convince him that she was truly sorry and none of what had transpired during the past few months was because of him. She faltered in her steps to the door, only to turn back around towards the vanity, then back towards the door. The ribbon was clenched in her fist. Finally, she turned to the vanity and removed her choker to replace it with the gifted ribbon. That would be a start, let him know that she appreciated everything that he did for her. Before exiting through the door, she wiped away her tears and composed herself, wanting him to see her as he always did. She had to remember to not seem to eager going to him, counting her steps and making sure that they were even. Luckily, no one really noticed how the twelfth division lieutenant had a slight bounce to her step.

She entered his office, large and dark, and called out his name. There was no answer. She went inside and called for him once more. Still no answer. Looking around, Nemu concluded that he was nowhere to be seen. She turned a corner and there was the flutter of dropped papers and a small gasp. Nemu had bit her tongue to stay silent. It was Akon. She wondered what he was doing in the captain's office, seldom anyone but her was allowed in there - particularly when it was empty.  
>She helped him pick up his papers and handed it back to him.<p>

Where was the captain, she asked.

Akon had replied that the Chief was going on an excursion with some of the other scientists such as Kuma, Osoku, and Megane; and that he had not specified when he would be back.

She asked him what instructions he had left behind. He left none, simply telling Akon to spread the word onto Nemu that she was in charge until he got back and if anything was amiss she would pay dearly.

At this, Nemu could only nod and dismissed Akon out of the room, telling him that she knew just what to get started on.

She went to the computer and began looking up data, organizing it and opening the files that were often filled with notes upon current and future experimentations. The blue screen was bright in her face and staring at it so long stung at her eyes. Unconsciously, she had been fingering the red ribbon around her neck and when she realized she did, she stopped typing at the computer and leaned back in the chair.  
>More tears spilled again. She should've been earlier to see him off at the very least. Why did he not tell her? Did he hate her now? No, he did not hate her, what was around her neck was proof of his affection for her. Yet that only led to more questions about why he should've given her something before he left and why he would've left her behind: she could not recall a day when he left her to venture off alone.<br>A hand went to cover her eyes.  
>She cried.<p>

Kurotsuchi Mayuri did not come back the next day. Nor did he come back the next week. There was not much change in the division, though the other divisions were often told that the twelfth division captain was busy working instead of that he had gone off somewhere to hunt for specimens. After learning that Mayuri had left, she shortly discovered the next hour that Ashisoji Jizo was not in his room and so had also been taken away to go with Mayuri. She thought the little zanpakuto spirit could've comforted her in his master's absence but she was denied that as well too. Desperate, she filled her hours with work. Nemu had done an adequate job in maintaining the division while he was gone and Akon was always there by her side to help her. She always thanked him for his assistance.

Her sadness and pain had gone away the moment she opened that box on her vanity. And everyday she wore the gifted choker, putting the previous one away. Each day she patiently waited for him and mentally scolded herself whenever she allowed doubt to seep into her mind. He would come back, he had to. He promised her so long ago that he would always be back.

One afternoon, she was sitting at the balcony of the division. How strange that although each division of the Gotei 13 had practically the same amount of shinigami, their division always seemed so empty…

Their work was finished for the day and she did not feel like going inside so soon, nothing was in their awaiting her. Nemu sought to stay out until it was time to go to sleep, when the sun would be gone and the moon having stolen its place. She sighed as she tried to recall the anger and sadness she had felt before, it seemed as though it was in another lifetime. No other life but creation and scientist could've suited her and she was thinking herself a fool to even dare to consider that there was the possibility of children or connubial bliss in her future. Such things were meant for other people, just not for her.  
>She felt a strange calmness in staring out at the stillness of the grounds, the contentment washed over her like a lukewarm rain. There was not much more she could ask out of her existence, that which Mayuri had granted to her when he did not have to. She had a good job, she had friends, she had a man to care for and who cared enough for her to always resurrect her, and she had duties to fulfill; she accepted what the fates had given her and thanked them for it.<p>

Then she was surprised to sense the presence of who she had been waiting for all those free afternoons and evenings: Kurotsuchi Mayuri. It had been a month. Yet she somehow knew by his presence that he had been back sooner. It was strange what can be known and what can be said when no one really does any talking.  
>No words were spoken. Were words ever really needed between the two of them? Just as she was about to turn around to look at him, greet and to ask if his trip had gone well; he was already standing by her side.<p>

He fingered the choker that she wore, he must've known that it was his for she felt relief when his digits moved on the road of the red. His finger, the one with the long nail, traced the width of the choker on her neck. She shivered excitedly at the action. He retracted the finger and moved to the front of her.

First thing she did as soon as he was before her was that she looked up into his golden eyes. Oh, she could've drowned in those golden eyes of his, eyes that pierced and glared and were hard. But eyes that could be gentle when he wanted them to, that could comfort with his promises, and eyes that could see the truth. She didn't need anything more as long as he was with her, she thought.  
>She conjured up a smile for him. He did not smile back and she was afraid that she had repelled him away from her and nothing could ever be the same again. <em>Never<em>, the word rang in her head in that familiar voice. And before she knew it, his face was close to hers and the distance between them was closed by the joining of their lips.  
>The kiss was how every kiss between them always went: quick, chaste, never lingering for more than a few seconds, and only once. His kiss was gentle on her mouth. Her eyes fluttered closed and then the connection was broken.<p>

Then the next thing was that he was already at the doorway, his back to her, the emblem of their division bright on the white of his back. The captain haori billowed as he left her.

She got up from her chair on the balcony and went after him.

He was already gone yet an instinct in her, more basic than that of her sex, directed her where to go. And it was right.

By the time she arrived in his bedroom, he had already shed off the golden frame with its ear attachments and his hair-piece that resembled goat-horns. The paint remained as did the scarf about his neck and the rest of his clothes. Ashisoji Jizo was in his proper room. If he ever asked her about his appearance, she would admit that he looked better as he was currently before her. The two of them stood apart for quite some time, looking at each other: he at his closet and she at the doorway.

Taking the first step, Nemu literally did that and closed the door behind her. She bowed low then rose, never breaking the eye contact as she greeted him, "Mayuri-sama."

She half-expected him to smile that wicked smile of him, but he still did not. His face remained morose. "How has the division been?" he asked her.

She replied that it had been running well in his absence, but his presence should definitely motivate his subordinates more.

He stayed statuesque.

Nemu took another step towards him, she asked when did he return.

He replied that he had come back a week ago and had locked himself in the vaults underground to properly label and ready each specimen for the upcoming season when the current subjects should be dead.

She nodded: another step closer towards him. He stayed put where he was, it was only she who kept walking to him.  
>Finally, after what seemed to be eons, she stopped two steps before him. Her hands reached out to him and gripped the haori at his shoulders. She looked at him, her eyes scanning everywhere on his face and his own eyes followed her own to where they were directing to.<br>It came out like a mutter, yet it was articulated. Quiet yet loud in the significance of the room that surrounded the two of them. "I've missed you, Mayuri-sama."  
>She had never said such a thing, thought analogous to it, but never once had she said it out loud. Love had never came from her lips either as his. She heard him exhale sharply and she was afraid she might've said the wrong thing - she could not decipher what it was that he was feeling.<p>

Without warning, his hands grabbed her by the arms and he forced a brutal kiss on her lips.

There were the stumbling of feet moving back and forwards, then the collision of something that the back of her knees. Her back hit his mattress, their legs dangled over the edge. She heard him stamping at his own feet, tearing his waraji off. She followed example and kicked her own shoes off onto the floor. His tongue prodded her mouth open, she immediately complied. His tongue dove in and tangled with hers, licking and flicking away. His hands, rough and full, touched her everywhere, handling her self like he wanted to make sure that it was really her. Her legs wrapped round his waist, his hips buckled forward into her and she yelped, pleasured. He charged against her clothed heat again, her heels dug into his lower back. He pushed her more onto the bed, she pulled him up, his legs scrambling in a panic.

She knew what was coming next, could feel it like an order from him and she wanted it too. It had been too long and his presence made the yearning more intense. Her hands that had been gripping tightly onto his shoulders released themselves and shimmied down to her lower half. She bunched up her skirt around her waist and proceeded to pull down her panties.

His mouth left hers with a wet _slurrp. _"No." he whispered harshly in her ear.

"You don't want me to…" her voice trailed off as his mouth found her neck and sucked upon it.

"Did I say that I didn't want you?" his nose brushed by the choker, "I want you…." a breath here, "to take everything off." He bit her neck, his teeth making contact with the choker, "But leave the damn choker on."

She nodded her head, her face warm, "Yes, Mayuri-sama."

He backed away from her and she took this to be his permission for her to sit up and divest herself.

Sitting upright on the bed, her knees closed together, the first thing to go were her panties: tossed over the side. She watched him watching her take off her clothes and felt her face flushing, though it remained nonetheless indifferent. The obi was pulled off and tossed heavily to the floor to join the shoes. As she was the opening of the shihakusho became bigger and bared her pale chest, she felt his arms surround her and pull her atop his kneeling lap. He had already rid himself of his haori and his kosode, the hakama undone and hanging off his hips. Her feet planted themselves on the surface of the bed. And their thoughts spilled into one another.  
><em>Touch me here. Hold me closer. Come nearer. Kiss me. So warm. Slower. Harder. Oh God! I want to fuck you. Pull it back. Lick it. Bite me there. Make me yours. Move your hands higher. <em>  
><em>Claws! Fuck me. Take it off. Leave it on. Yes! No! Don't stop! Please! Inside. Too cold! Oh, please, don't stop! It's been too long! I've missed you! I couldn't think of anything else. I've been wanting this for months. I'm so sorry! Forgive me! Yes! Here! Higher! There! There! Louder! Scream my name! Only my name! Never let me go. Swear yourself to me. Always, I promise. Good girl, what a very good girl. <em>  
><em>I love you! I love you! I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you…<em>

His mouth left her nipple and moved to her lips. The kiss ended too quickly, leaving the two of them silent and face to face: the tips of their nose touching together and their breaths mingling. Was he ever capable of looking sad? She didn't think so, it must've been a trick of the eyes because his expression was not sad, but contemplative.  
>He whispered into her ear, gentle, but the words were sharp as a whip against her, "Don't ever say that."<p>

She nodded.

But what else could she have said then? What they had between them was not love, never love. What they had was a bond that was ore basic than love: that she knew she must be with him and he had to have her at his side. And it was more complex than love: that despite his abuse he could not imagine being without her and she would gladly give us her for him without orders. He hated incorrect labelling.

He laid her back slowly on the bed, descending with her too. Her feet remained where they were, her knees spreading wider and wider to accommodate his body between. Her hair was matted to her brow, perspiration coated them both. Under her hands on his shoulder blades, she felt his paints getting warmer and sticking to her own hands. She gripped into him and felt in squish between her nails. He nailed himself inside her, she tossed her head back with a shriek. He had at her and she welcomed it gladly.

It was intense, he would not look away from her as he moved inside her. Her lids fluttered, dizzy in the head and heart. His fingers interlocked with hers, tightening its grip every time he thrust-ed in. Their fingers still interlocked, his elbows bent and his body came closer to hers. Every gap of his was filled by her, every space of her was filled by him. His breath tickled her neck, she felt his lips and tongue moist as it smacked against the skin there.

"Mayuri-sama!" she gasped.

He sucked, she knew there would surely be a love bite tomorrow. Her head bumped against the headboard and she struggled to move lower against his pounding. Like a broken record, she gasped out his name over and over, an occasional cross between whimper and yelp interrupting herself. He was everywhere to her. She moved against him, meeting thrust for thrust. Her feet hooked under his knees as she pushed her rear up higher to bring him in deeper. She whimpered from the fullness of it all.

What followed soon after was a pleasure that writing could possibly never achieve to describe. His name, stuttered in screams, was emitted by her as she shook and tightened her hold on him. He trembled and after he thrust-ed in a final time, he rested against her.

She panted heavily, kissing the space beneath the hole that was his ear and collar bone between the breaths. She licked his shoulder.

He rolled off her, onto his side, an arm acting as a substitute pillow. His chest rose with every heavy breath he took. Some of his paints had been smeared and wiped away.

Nemu sat up on the bed, her legs sore and still spread apart, knees widely distanced in front and her soles behind her pointing up to the ceiling, her hands acting as a gate to her womanhood. She smiled sweetly at him, small though it was, and felt a new woman. There was a difference from their earlier couplings. He had his eyes wide open at her, looking only at her, through her, around her…. She found it unsettling, but did not comment upon it.

"Mayuri-sama?' she inquired.

He responded in kind, "Nemu."

She thought him to be tired and prepared to gather her clothes to leave him to sleep. She would wake him up later after she had made him his supper for the day. But he held her by the wrist and pulled her back into his bed. She fell onto the mattress and into his twining arms with a heavy _fwump._

"Mayuri-sama!' she exclaimed, impassioned by his boldness and wondering if he was spry already for another go.

He shushed her and told her to be quiet. He was tired and wanted his rest.

Her eyes traveled to inspect their compromising position: their chests pressed against another's, their legs and feet so entangled that if it were not for the different complexions it would be difficult to determine whose legs were whose, and their arms wrapped around each other. His chin rested on the top of her head that was bent at an awkward angle to accommodate the closeness of the fit, her hair sprawled behind her.

"But, Mayuri-sama, my being here-"

He cut her off with a harsh question that contrasted to how gentle he was holding her to him, "Is there somewhere else that you should be then? Because from the looks of earlier, it appeared that you had nothing to do and was just staring blankly at the buildings outside."

Their arms squeezed around each other tighter. She shook her head, "No, Mayuri-sama. But you must have your supper. I will go and-"

He interrupted her once again, "I already ate."

He didn't say it nor did she hear it from him, but she could just understand by the way that he breathed into her hair, how his hands stroked her arms, when his legs tangled themselves around hers so that there was possibly no way for her to go; he wanted her to stay with him, in his bed, wrapped in his arms….

She found herself shaking, overwhelmed by him and all this, her heart trembled as did she. Her vision grew blurry and it was when she tasted salt on her lips that she realized she was crying.

He noticed it as well. Tsking her, "What are you crying for? Stop it."

She nodded her head and buried her face into his neck, kissing his adam's apple. "Yes, Mayuri-sama."

* * *

><p><em>Bleep<em>

"Yeah, I wonder what they were doing in there. It sounded like they were fighting." Yachiru commented, her hand cupping her ear against the wall. .

_Bleep Bleep_

Ashisoji Jizo offered her a banana and the two then went back to their drawings, immediately forgetting(ignoring?) what they had just heard_. _

* * *

><p><strong>Um, I had planned for Mayuri to give Nemu a rose. But then I scratched that because he doesn't seem to be the type to give flowers even if he just passes buy the grass and plucks it. I then considered having him give Nemu a white flower to sort of make it seem apologetic and pure. That didn't seem befitting of Mayuri either. But then I recalled the Red String of Fate and had him give Nemu a new ribbon for a choker. For those who don't know or have forgotten, the red string(ribbon) of fate is used in asiancultures to symbolize destined love between a man and woman. That when a pair is born, a red string connects them despite gender, age, time, place, circumstances, etc... The red string means that the two connected are fated to be. The red string can be twisted with another's or knotted up and tangled, but it can never be broken.<strong>

**So, I've had Mayuri use it sort of like an apology to Nemu to tell her in his own way that he loves her, that the two of them are meant to be no matter what and that he will always stay with her. Something along those lines. Anyway, the meaning is supposed to be very romantic, you can decide to what extent, but it was definitely enough for Nemu to break down crying and realize the 'error of her ways'.**

**Mayuri doesn't really seem to be the superficial type with flowers, more like the practical type. So... any more questions about the red string of fate or anything else?**

**Plus I had him want Nemu to be with him as he slept. Probably OOC, but hopefully the dialogue made up for it. **

**If you have any questions or comments, please leave it in a review or send it in a pm.**


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